Posted on by shirindawna

the magnetic pull of a love story.

isn’t it intriguing how love can ignite unexpected sparks and forge connections that defy explanation? i’ve always been the kind of person who stays friends with my exes. some people find it strange, but to me, it’s a testament to the connection we shared. after all, love doesn’t just disappear because a relationship ends; it transforms, it lingers, it finds new ways to exist.

there’s this pattern i’ve noticed, something almost magical. it seems that every man i’ve loved and left, or who has left me (i know…it’s hard to believe, but it’s happened), describes their experience of falling in love with me in strikingly similar terms. they speak of the chemistry as unmatched, a spark that set their world ablaze. they call me magnetic, say i have a pull that’s impossible to resist.

they tell me stories of how their hearts raced the first time we met, how every touch felt electric, and how conversations with me were like nothing they’d ever known. it’s like reading different chapters of the same book, each one recounting the same wonder, the same awe.

“you have this way about you,” one of them once said, a smile playing on his lips. “it’s like you see right into my soul and pull out the best parts of me.”

another ex, years after our breakup, confided, “being with you felt like being alive in a way i didn’t know was possible. the chemistry we had…i’ve never felt that with anyone else.”

these words, this recurring narrative, got me thinking. how is it that different men, at different times in my life, describe their love for me in almost identical ways? is it them, or is it me? is there something in the way i love, the way i connect, that creates this extraordinary bond? (spoiler: it’s not me, but let’s pretend)

the more i pondered, the more i realized that it’s not just about romantic relationships. this magnetic pull, this unmatched chemistry, it’s something deeper. it’s about the energy we bring into the world, the authenticity with which we live our lives. it’s about being fully present, about seeing people for who they truly are and letting them see you in return.

love, in all its forms, is transformative. it’s not about possession or permanence; it’s about the impact we have on each other’s lives. these men, these loves, they were mirrors reflecting back to me my own capacity for passion, for deep connection, for vulnerability.

staying friends with exes has taught me that love evolves. it’s not confined to the traditional boundaries of a relationship. we can carry the essence of those connections forward, allowing them to shape us, to teach us, to remind us of our own magnetic pull.

in a way, this recurring experience of love speaks to something bigger, something more meaningful. it’s about the human desire to connect, to be seen, to be understood. it’s about the magic that happens when two souls meet and recognize something familiar in each other.

and maybe, just maybe, it’s a reminder that we are all capable of being that spark, that magnetic force, for someone else. it’s about being open, being real, and letting the chemistry of connection work its magic, time and time again.

as i continue on this journey, i am grateful for these echoes of love, these reflections of my own heart. they remind me that love, in all its forms, is the most powerful force of all. and that, in itself, is something truly extraordinary. and maybe that’s why i’ve spent a lifetime chasing the right words to capture these feelings…

Posted on by shirindawna

addicted to the if only.

i find myself standing at the crossroads, not knowing which path to take. the weight of the decision about another pregnancy feels immense. recently, i found myself back at the fertility clinic, and now, the reality of what lies ahead is sinking in…

there’s a part of me that yearns for another child, another heartbeat to love and nurture. the idea of expanding our family, of watching our children grow up together, fills me with a sense of hope and excitement. i can picture the laughter, the chaos, the endless moments of joy.

but then, there’s the other side of the coin. the fear, the uncertainty, the what-ifs that haunt my thoughts. the journey to this point hasn’t been easy. infertility, cancer, the emotional roller coaster—it all leaves scars, seen and unseen.

…sitting in the clinic, the sterile smell, the quiet hum of machines. the doctor’s words were a mix of optimism and caution. it’s possible.

there’s a risk.

there’s a chance.

there’s no guarantee.

and so, i’m conflicted. my heart and my head are in a tug-of-war. do we risk the heartbreak, the potential for more pain? or do we hold on to what we have, cherish the life we’ve built, and accept that it might be enough?

sometimes, i wish for a clear sign, something to point me in the right direction. but life doesn’t work that way. it’s messy and uncertain, and sometimes, there are no clear answers.

weighing the pros and cons feels like trying to balance on a tightrope. i think about our past struggles, the tears, the sleepless nights, the endless waiting. can i put myself through that again? can i put us through that again?

yet, there’s that small, persistent voice inside me, whispering about possibilities, about hope. it reminds me of the strength we’ve found in each other, the resilience that’s carried us this far.

so here i am, at this crossroads, feeling the full weight of the decision. it’s not just about another pregnancy; it’s about our future, our family, our dreams.

as we navigate this uncertainty, i remind myself to breathe, to take it one day at a time. whatever we decide, it will be with love and hope at the core.

maybe the answer will come in a moment of quiet clarity, or maybe it will be a series of small steps leading us to where we’re meant to be.

for now, i hold on to the love we have, the strength we’ve shown, and the belief that, no matter what, we will find our way through.

Posted on by shirindawna

down bad.

while explaining what deadlifts are to my child, he asked if i thought of lifting my dad while i was doing them at the gym. the association with lifting dead weight to lifting a dead person was one i hadn’t considered (until that moment)…

naturally, i broke into song…(after a hearty laugh) and it gave one of my favorite songs new meaning.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=EVbtjaWXQVg%3Fsi%3Db_M-CMRFw-t1iUDy

not gonna lie, there’s been a lot of “fuck it if i can’t have him” since i lost my baba…parts of me which have mostly healed, but the agony of grief persists on the darkest days.